


men like ourselves

by goukyorin (sashimisusie)



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashimisusie/pseuds/goukyorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corvo calms Curnow down before knocking him out. It's rather effective.<br/>Corvo/Geoff, meeting in Campell's office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	men like ourselves

High Overseer Campbell is halfway through his glass of wine when he collapses at Geoff’s feet. The sound of the wineglass shattering against the floor is startling and sudden.

Strangely enough, there is no one in the room. The Overseers have been giving him strange looks all evening and it might be a good idea to shout for help. But this all looks awfully suspicious.

There is a hand over Geoff's mouth before he can so much as open his mouth. He struggles hard, trying to break free. He hasn't much to live for but he doesn't want to leave Callista all alone, wherever she may be.

“Curnow, stop struggling!” A familiar voice rasps into his ear, urgent and low. “It's me, Corvo.”

The hand over his mouth drops to his shoulder and Geoff finds himself face to face with the mask from the wanted posters.

"Attano!” He shoves himself away in shock. “Ow! What the—”

Without another word, Corvo pushes up the mask and silences him with a kiss.

There is absolutely no reason why the former Lord Protector should be _alive_ , much less here. There is even less of a reason for him to be kissing over Campbell’s body and absolutely no reason for Geoff to put his hands around Corvo's waist.

He does it anyways.

Corvo kisses like a man drowning, desperate and trying to hold onto something, anything. Maybe he is. Or maybe he’s trying not to let go.

It reminds Geoff of cold winter mornings, of moments stolen from the past and a risk he'd take again if he could. He was a younger man, then. A younger man but not any wiser, or he wouldn’t be brushing his tongue over Corvo’s lips.

"You're a good man, Curnow." Corvo murmurs, arms wrapped solidly around his chest. "Maybe the only one left in this city."

His mouth feels leaden and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open when he realizes that there is an empty vial in between Corvo’s fingers. As he slumps forward against his neck, he thinks he hears Corvo whisper an apology.

For what, he’s not sure.

Geoff has no idea how long he’s been out for when he wakes up with his head pounding. The smell is atrocious and he’s pretty sure this isn’t a pillow under his head ( _for starters, it’s still moving_ ).

He’s not even angry about being tossed into knocked out and tossed into a rubbish bin. If anything, he’s angry at himself. The regrets dredged up and the memories swallowed are bitter, bitter as the dust in his mouth and just as hard to choke down.


End file.
